246 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
LSept. 26, 1896. 
VITALITY OF MOOSE. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In the issue of Forest and Streajvi for Sept, 12 Aztec 
asks, has any one ever seen a deer drop "as if struck by 
lightning" when shot through the heart? 1 have seen a 
moose do so on one occasion when I was in at the death 
of a laree four-year- old moose; my companion, using a 
.45-90 Winchester solid ball, shot him at some 90 odd 
yards while he was standing perfectly still, trying to catch 
some scent of danger, and he dropped instantly and never 
moved. I never saw an animal, even shot in the brain, 
die more quickly. Still another instance was told me by 
a man whom I can depend upon, an old hunter. On one 
of his many trips he shot at a deer running fair away 
from him; the ball ranged through the animal from back 
to front ]U8t under the back bone, but without touching 
it, and the yearling buck simply wilted, the force with 
which he was running driving his spike firmly into the 
ground when he fpll, but he was absolutely dead on strik- 
ing the ground. Now, on the other hand, I shot a moose 
three years ago just as it crossed on the run a small open- 
ing in the bushes ahead of me, 1 only had the opportu- 
riity to shoot once and my shot apparently had no effect, 
as the bull did not stop nor flinch, nor drop its head a 
little, as an animal almost invariajbly does when hit. He 
kept on and we found not a drop of blood and his tracks 
apparently quite strong. Now, I was just as confident 
that I had hit as my Indian was that I had not hit; so in 
spite of his assurance of "You shoot too quick; you not 
hit," I followed on the trail and found the animal about 
400yd8. away, quite dead. Afterward we discovered that 
the ball from my .50-110 Winchester had cub the apex of 
the heart clean off. Surely he should have dropped, but 
yet there is the cold fact, he ran 400yds. 
Again in the fall of 1895 I shot a caribou, breaking the 
spinal column just above the fore shoulders. The animal 
was one of a group of four cows and one bull. After the 
shot, which we at once saw was fatal, we watched the 
other animals as they ran away aad circled back to look 
at us, and then made off for good, for fuUy five minutes, 
and then we went up to our priza. We found him still 
living, his head up in the air watching us closely, and all 
the muscles in the fore part of his body working violently 
in an endeavor to rise. I was on the point of firing 
another shot to put it out of its misery, when its head fell 
to the ground and in a moment more it was dead. There 
was 4 in. of the backbone blown clean to atoms — in fact, 
blown right out by the mushroom bullet. 
Now there are four facts, two of which counteract the 
evidence of the other tv^o, and the last two being appar- 
ently in complete opposition to theory. Who will get up 
in the amen comer and tell ub the why and the w heref ort? 
I would like to know very much myself, and I am sure so 
would many others. Above you have the experience and 
the facts. We aU know the theory. Who vsdll reconcile 
the two for • T tam ? 
HAr.i.PAx, N. S. 
WISCONSIN WANDERINGS. 
Sharp-tail Grouse Shooting. 
Babcock is a little town in the central part of Wiscon- 
sin. It is on a sandy plain, consisting of dried up marsh, 
with many "islands" of brush and small trees; most of 
the islands are small, many of them covering less than 
an acre. The place has somewhat of a reputation for 
"chickens." In the course of his wanderings your cor- 
respondent found it needful to stop there over night, 
"wan day lasht week," as the Irishman expressed it. The 
hotel was a very good one, and the host thereof was in- 
clined to be sociable, so some inquiry was made about the 
chickens. 
The landlord said there had been a great many killed, 
and they were still to be found in considerable numbers, 
but surely few to what there were at the opening of the 
season. He said a man named James Varney had a dog, 
but no team, and would doubtless be willing to go with 
some one who would furnish a team. 
Varney was soon found, and said he would go to-mor- 
row, but his dog was pretty well worn out and had a 
sore foot. Then we hunted up the livery man, and he 
said he would take us out for $3 a day, so he was engaged 
and we went to bed to be ready for a start at 7 o'clock the 
next morning. A little after that time we were off in a 
comfortable and roomy spring wagon, well provided with 
lunch and a big jug of water. The poor dog's foot was 
very sore; so bad that he did not allow anything to touch 
it. We drove out three miles and got out of the wagon. 
Varney took a shot bag, a needle and thread from his 
pocket, and proceeded to make a stocking for the dog's 
foot, which he did by neatly folding the cloth around 
and under the foot and then sewing it snugly around the 
leg. I supposed the dog would chew the stocking off as 
soon as ho got a chance, but he paid no attention to it, 
and went to work at once. The stocking stayed on all 
day, but wore through on the bottom. 
Our hunting ground spread out all around us for miles 
— all level, covered with grass and weeds, popple thickets 
jmd islands of brush so far as could be seen. Off to our 
left was a little strip of corn, an acre or two of mullet and 
a similar patch of ripening buckwheat, which I at once 
pronounced the place to find chickens. At the end of the 
buckwheat and near the corn the dog began to trail and 
a minute later there came the inspiring, though startling 
flop of chickens taking wing. Turning quickly, I was just 
in time to see an old cock clearing the tops of the corn 
some 40yd8. away. The first shot made him flinch and 
drop one leg, the second made him swerve again and 
hang down the other leg, but he kept right on and three 
others with him. It was too bad; there ought to have 
been two birds bagged right there. The gun and the load 
had been tried many times and had never been found 
lacking. Well, it didn't kill this time anyway. The 
crippled bird settled out of sight behind the corn a hun- 
dred rods away and the others flew on. 
Marking the direction of the cripple by a dead tree, at- 
tention was turned to the dog, who was not working on 
these birds and was still working a trail which he followed 
to a flush. It lay close, and when it rose was shot inside 
of 35yds. It fell at once, but was not clearly killed. We 
started after wh^t birds might still be in the corn, and had 
hardly reached the edge when one flushed, to keep me 
from stepping on it, and flew back between us. Looking 
first for Varney and next for the bird, I waited until it 
swung out from between us, then dropped it in the grass, 
and was surprised that this one was not shot dead. Just 
after retrieving this one another rose from the corn. It 
was nearer to me than to Varney, but I only "tickled" it 
and a moment later Varney laid it dead, The corn was 
but a narrow strip; so one of us went along either edge, 
with the dog between us, in the corn. He presently 
flushed one, which I ought to have killed, but missed 
with both shots. The gun was only just loaded again 
when another bird came out of the corn 60ft, in front of 
me and circled sharply to the right and rear. It was 
missed with both barrels just like the other one. 
Then the old man just laid the gun on the ground, 
folded his arms and gave himself a general talking to on 
the subject of being an excitable old fool, that couldn't 
shoot at a few chickens without getting rattled so badly 
he couldn't hit the ground if he fell out of a tree, and 
wound up by telling himself that if he missed another 
bird before noon the gun should be laid in the wagon. 
Then he took the gun and started along the edge of the 
corn again, and another bird flaw out in front and circled 
round to the rear. This bird was so close and circled so 
slowly that I took the time to shoot it in the head with- 
out hitting its body, and did it neatly. 
Perhaps the reader wonders what my partner was 
doing all this time. He was looking after the dog and 
taking shots only at such birds as I was unable to shoot 
at, for, said he, "You wiU only have to-day to shoot at 
them, while I can shoot at them all summer." He did 
not shoot at any bird that I could have a chance at. 
About this time we heard some shots and saw that 
another party of three had flushed our three birds that 
had flown out of the corn, and soon after they flushed 
about fifteen that Varney expected to have got into, so 
they about spoiled the rest of our sport in that locality. 
We went after the old cock that had gone off with hang- 
ing legs and found him unable to fly. One flushed wild 
and was marked down in a popple thicket. The popple 
bushes grow as thick as straws in a wheat field and are 
about 4ft. high. A very thick growth of tickle grass 
grows knee high among the popples. The dog found this 
bird, and it had to be actually kicked out before it would 
fly.- It had been shot inside of 30yds,, but had life enough 
to run several feet. But one more was found before 
noon. It got out from almost between my feet, and, like 
the others, was not shot dead. After we had had a 
hearty lunch and were lying in the shade for a two 
hours' rest, I fell to thinking how poorly these birds had 
been kUled, and that I must have been very near missing 
them entirely, and resolved that during the afternoon I 
would concentrate every effort on putting the center of 
the shot charge into the bird instead of only scraping it 
with one side of the charge. 
Our tramj) during the morning had been a hard one, for 
the ground was very rough, the cover very thick, and 
inany small logs were concealed in the rank growth of 
grass, just right to stumble over, and we decided that two 
hours was none too long for a rest and settled ourselves 
on the ground fot- a nap; but our minds were too much 
stirred up b^- tl^ pv/>,itemen*-, of the morning to go to sleep 
or let our bodies rest. So after an l.e'ir Varney said he 
thought there must be some birds just at the point of our 
island, where there was a patch of buckwheat, so we 
picked up the guns, and the dog, poor fellow, picked up 
his sore foot, and we started, all of us feeling a bit stiff 
and sore and wishing the ground was smoother. At the 
edge of the buckwheat Varney walked up a strong old 
bird and laid it low in beautiful style. He had just re- 
trieved his bird when ten others got up BSyds, from me 
and flew squ .rely to my left. Remembering that every 
bird was to be centered this afternoon, I held carefully, 
one foot ahead and a little high, for the bird was stilLris- 
ing, and was delighted to see it fall like a wet rag. 
Quickly covering the next one in the same careful man- 
ner, I saw it wilt as the shot struck it. Varney was some 
twenty steps behind me. and was pulling his trigger for 
this bird when it dropped from under the muzzle of his 
gun, but not in time to hold his fire; but he scored with 
hie second. On going to my birds I found that neither of 
them had made any struggle, and there were but few 
whole bones left in them. 
We hxmted round to see if there was not one or two in 
cloB3 hiding under the rank cover, and I came near step- 
ping on one that almost flew in my face and then went 
back toward Varney. Waiting until it had swerved away 
from him and had gone past him, I swung the gun after 
it, intending to shoot at the instant the gun caught up 
with it. In turning my foot caught under something, and 
on that account the aim was delayed a little, and when 
the foot was got free the gun swung 4ft. too far; but for- 
tunately I did not shoot. By this time the bird was 
45yd8, away, flying level and straight from me. It had 
got so far away and was going so fast, it seemed it must 
be shot before it got a foot further if it was shot at aU; but 
I remembered that every bird was to have the center of 
the charge, and swung the gun back till the bird was 
covered just right, steadied long enough to make sure it 
was just right, then pulled. "A great shot," cried Var- 
ney, as the bird tumbled into the weeds, turning over and 
over as it went down. "I thought sure you were not 
going to get him, and was just about to shoot." 
Here we had bagged five inside of five minutes, and 
thought we had marked down the seven that flew away. 
We thought we had them marked in a popple thicket, 
and probably had; but the popples were so thick and it 
was so hot the dog could do nothing, and we failed to 
raise any of them, though we tramped till we were tired. 
Then we got into the wagon and rode several miles to 
where we hoped to find more birds. Part of the way 
was over hay roads, and the rest of the way seemed to be 
mostly over logs, roots, stumps and other roughnesses 
that were hidden in the dense growth of grass, popple 
bushes and "tickle" grass. For some miles there was no 
sign of civilization in sight; the afternoon was cloudy and 
our way a devious one on account of the many obstruc- 
tions. I soon lost all idea of direction, and had I not 
known the direction of the wind, which was blowing a 
steady breeze, would have been lost. I also remembered 
that the Wisconsin Riv^ was some miles to the east, and 
a railroad some miles to the west. As we were crossing a 
"mowing" an old cock rose wild from the short grass. 
We stopped the wagon to better mark the bird, and had 
no sooner done so than the dog leaped out on the wind- 
ward side and pointed. Then we saw the heads of two 
birds stretched above the short grass some 60yds. away. 
When we got within 40yds. they flew, and we were for- 
tunate in winging both of them. We then went after 
the wild old cock, but he was wary and flushed wild and 
out of sight behind some trees, A moment later another 
one flushed wild, but Varney took a shot at it and thought 
he hit it, and was sure he did when we marked it down 
80 rods away. We went after it, and Varney flushed and 
killed it. The walking after these birds was very trying. 
The ground seemed to be covered with obstructions, and 
was all hidden by the rank growth of grass. 
It was now 4 P. M, I was tired, hot, thirsty and had a 
headache, I felt that the hunt was fast losing its interest 
for me. Going to the wagon for a drink, I remarked that 
the water was very warm and stale. The driver said he 
had some coffee left, and got it out. It was in a tin can- 
teen, with air-tight stopper; nearly a quart of good, strong 
coffee, creamed and sugared just right. I drank it all, 
and wished there was more. In ten minutes every trace 
of fatigue, thirst and headache had vanished, and for 
two hours longer we tramped steadily, and I wished as 
the sun went down that the day was longer. 
Starting out again, the dog found a trail, and after ten 
minutes pointed an old cock, and Varney and I divided 
honors. The dog at once took up another trail, and while 
he was somewhat puzzled over it three young birds arose 
in front of us, two straight away and one flying back on 
my left, As Varney was on my right, I took the left hand 
one, as it was just opposite and not SOyds, away^ and 
smashed every bone in it; then took the left hand one of 
the other two and dropped it just as Varney shot the 
other one. Varney was expecting to take care of both 
birds, and being busy with the first one did not see the 
other one faU, When he looked for it a puzzled look 
came over his face and he said: "How did that bird get 
out of sight so quick?" I told him it fell in the grass. 
Half an hour later the dog found another trail, which he 
followed for ten minutes, and at last flushed an old bird 
within lOft, of him without getting the body scent at all. 
Being close by, I had a very easy shot, and made a clean 
kill. Half an hour before sundown the dog found another 
trail — evidently of a considerable number of birds that 
had been traveling in all directions— and worked on it 
until it was too hot to spend more time on them, but did 
not find them. 
This ended my first day with the Wisconsin prairie 
chickens, which were not chickens, but sharp-tailed 
grouse. 
There are said to be some pinnated grouse on the 
ground we hunted, but we saw none. It was a good day, 
and next winter when the cjld keeps me indoors it will 
be set in array with many other similar days, and en- 
joyed again. O, H. Hampton,' 
Winona, Minn., S ept. 14. 
GREENHORNS AND TENDERFEET. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In a recent editorial sketch in this journal you allude 
to and comment entertainingly on city and country 
greenhorns, and to what are recognized in the West as 
tenderfeet. Unquestionably men are fashioned by en- 
vironments and associations. 
That the old man from the country should attract at- 
tention on Broadway in his method of hailing a cable car 
is a natural consequence. Undoubtedly he felt himself 
so insignificant a particle in the throng and bustle as to 
imagine that he must make extraordinary exertions to 
attract notice and stop so dumb a thing as a cable car. 
Your allusions to both city and country greenhorns are 
very brief, for the topic might furnish material for many 
volumes. It is my opinion that the thoroughbred city 
man is quite as conspicuous in the backwoods as the back- 
woodsman is in the city — with the exception that there 
are fewer to observe or criticise him. We should be care- 
ful how we form opinions of greenhorns. Perhaps the 
awkward denizsns of the distant woods and fields, nearer 
nature and natural conditions, are also nearer the truer, 
in that they are subject to the least artificial environ- 
ments and influences. 
In my observations lam free to credit the backwoods- 
man with one superior trait at the least. He is usually, I 
may say almost invariably, proud of his city cousin. 
When the latter visits his shack in the wilds he must ad- 
mit that he is favored with the sincerest hospitality and 
truest friendship. The country cousin in the city is often 
made to feel very differently — perhaps through no inten- 
tional indifference, neglect or pride, but nevertheless 
through things that the polished cousins of the city seem 
powerless to correct. 
Under the oddest or roughest Exterior, we should re- 
member, there may lie the tenderest sensibilities — the 
truest as well, for they -are not so deeply disguised or so 
often made callous by constant contact with the things 
met with in crowds and cities. Indeed, in these very dif- 
ferences there is a profound theme for books and sermons. 
The honesty and loyalty of the rustic (for instance) is 
often miscalled verdancy, and he is considered by nis 
shrewder cousins the legitimate victim of conventional 
wile and shrewd practice. But I stray from my plan, 
which was to contribute an anecdote of some tenderfeet 
in the far West. 
It was at Winnemucca, Nevada, years ago, at that 
time a small railway station. There were about a dozen 
Shoshone Indians on the platform of the depot playing 
cards. They were half civilized red men and had seen 
the railroad trains so often that they were no longer 
wonders to them. An emigrant train came slowly in 
from the East, its numerous cars loaded with palefaces 
westward bound. 
As the train slowed up at the station ar dozen men and 
boys jumped out in the sage brush armed with ,22caliber 
pistols, with which they were aiding to tame Western 
wilds by popping away at jack rabbits and sage hens. 
The train stopped for some time, and gradually a large 
group of assorted Easterners of both sexes and with 
tender feet surrounded the group of Indians, There 
were several Indian women with their pappooses sitting 
on their fancy-colored blankets, and six or eight stalwart 
braves playing cards, with their shell counters and chips 
spread upon the blanket they used for a table. The 
Indians played silently, without exchanging words or 
manifesting any emotion. The paleface crowd increased 
and edged nearer as they saw there was no danger. 
The female passengers were most curious about the 
Indians and approached the- squaws daintily and much 
as they would have approached any other strange animal 
that they knew nothing about. 
"O. my! are those real wild Indians?" 
"Why, that baby would be cunning if it was white!" 
"See what a funny dress it has!" 
"Just look at that wrinkled old woman. See herdresa. 
Her moccasins are awful dirty." 
